The monsters inside
by An Angry Welshie
Summary: Being a child of divorce is hard enough but what happens when you add an aggressive brother, dead best friend, oblivious dad, creepy ex and a dying family member to the mix? This mess is placed on the fragile shoulders of young cigarette loving Clary Fray. Will a certain golden boy help lighten the load? LEMONS. Includes substance abuse, rape, death & more, you have been warned.
1. Chapter 1 -prologue

**Hi boios, Ok so I started this story back in 2016 and published it but we all know that was a disaster year so naturaly this fic turned into a disaster. So this is my sorry attempt to correct my mistakes for the 8 people that seemed to like this story.**

 **English isn't my first language so apologies for bad spelling and grammar. (plus I don't have a beta *cry*)**

 **This story has mature themes including rape, death, self harm and light substance abuse. Don't do drugs kids.**

 **Lemons in later chapters ;)**

 **Dislaimer: I don't own the mortal instrument or any of its characters. I'm just bored.**

* * *

Jocelyn's diagnosis came as a shock to everyone but her. She had a feeling that something wasn't right, yet she didn't expect it to be something so serious. She hadn't been feeling right for moths.

Her balance had changed, her energy levels decreased, her memory wasn't as sharp as it used to be. She'd been having problems with her vision, her hearing and sometimes she would struggle to speak.

So, she went to see a doctor. After a few tests with the doctor including heel to toe experiments to check coordination they sent her to get a CT scan. The black smudge stood out from the grey that was her brain.

After that she was introduced to so many people, neurosurgeons, medical oncologists, radiation oncologists, nurses, a dietitian and a social worker that all did their best to help. Clary however, knew that it was all for nothing. Her mother was going to die.

"You're going to die!" Clary had wept into her mothers arms.

"We all die, but this I'm getting help for." Jocelyn insisted although she had tears of her own streaming down her face. She knew it as well as her daughter. She didn't have much time left.

"But it won't save you!" Clary continued. She wasn't crying because she was sad. She was crying because she was angry. Angry that her mother was the one to fall victim to such a horrible curse. That there was no way to help her.

"No it won't." Jocelyn said, suddenly calm. "It won't sweetheart. But it will buy me time. Time to spend with you." Clary nodded, using the sleeve of her hoodie to wipe away her tears. "What if I told you that I was getting surgery…" Clary looked up, hopefull, for the first time in a long time..

"Are they going to take it out? Will you be fixed?"

"No… They can't take it all out without damaging some of my brain but they're going to take out as much as they can." Jocelyn sighed. "It means that I'll have more time and not only that I'll feel better too."

"That's brilliant then…" Clary saw her mother's face. "Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming…"

Jocelyn looked up at the light, it was something she did to keep the tears at bay. "But it means that I won't be seeing you for a long time.

"What?!" Why not?!" Clary's voice raised an octave.

"Because…" Jocelyn sighed. "I'll be in the hospital for a while to recover."

"But I can visit you in the hospital." She protested.

"I don't want you to see me like that…" Jocelyn said. "You'll stay with your father."

"Why can't I stay with Luke?!" Clary protested.

"Luke…" Jocelyn sighed. "He has a lot on his plate."

"For how long?" Clary said not wanting arguing with her mother. She knew how hard she tried to stay strong for her.

"A craniotomy recovery could last up to four weeks…"

"FOUR WEEKS?!" Clary exclaimed. "You can't expect me to spend four weeks with him."

"He's your father. Besides, Jonathan will be there aswel." Clary rolled her eyes.

"Jonathan is always there." She mumbled.

She mulled it over in her head. She hadn't seen her brother in months and sure he was an ass but it 'would' be nice to see him. Once upon a time they loved each other. He would push her on the swings. They would conspire against their parents together, he even beat up a few boys that bullied her in school. But that was a long time ago.

First it was the affair. Then the divorce. Then the battle for custody. Jocelyn got Clary and Valentine got Jonathan. Valentine had always liked Jonathan the best although she knew that Jon would've preferred to stay with their Mom.

Finally, Clary nodded.

"Ok fine." She sighed. "I will… I will stay with Dad. As long as you try your hardest to get better."

"Oh honey." Jocelyn said with a weak smile. I always do."

* * *

Fat drops of rain rolled down the car window, distorting the images beyond. Clary had often thought about this, how something as simple as water can separate you from the rest of the world, from a small stream to the widest of oceans. Clary enjoyed separating herself from others and she had found many ways to do so.

Currently she did one of her favorite things to do when she wanted to disconnect (which was almost always), listen to music. She had a playlist on her iPod that always lived in the back pocket of whatever pair of jeans she was wearing.

The playlist had over 500 songs on, she knew the lyrics to everyone off by heart. The songs varied. Some heavy metal, some rock, some songs from the 60's and some from the small unkown bands from quiet corners of the world. Clary didn't care much about the genre as long as it did its job, help her disconnect.

Sometimes Clary didn't need anything to help her disconnect. She had often found herself sitting cross-legged and staring at a blank wall. She would stare at the wall and pick out the details, maybe there was some paint peeling, or water damage at the edges but no matter what, she would 'wake up' an hour or two later, her stomach would growl at her for food and her throat would beg for water.

She didn't do this when she was younger. She was once a happy girl. Once she was thirteen it all changed when her best friend Simon died. He had a great love in music so she turned towards it after his death.

She saw it happen. She had warned him to be careful on the road. She had screamed his name when he got hit. She had called the ambulance and followed their instructions. She had held him as he died, wiping his tears from his face and telling him that it would all be alright.

She always wore long sleeved jackets to hide the thin white scars on her wrists that where the outcome of that day. She would to cry herself to sleep most nights and question why.

Three years later she sat in the taxi taking her to her home for the next four weeks. Jocelyn sat beside her, twiddling her thumbs nervously beside her.

Clary did her best to ignore her mother, engulfing herself wirh the words of Ed Sheeran. She focused on every word. Every beat. Every instrument. She barely noticed Jocelyn paying the taxi driver and telling her to get out of the car.

After being scolded by her mother for not payin attention, she thanked the taxi driver and grabbed her bags from the trunk.

In front of her was a large semi-detached house with large windows and a well-kept garden. A tall thin man with sharp features stood in front of her. A boy a few years older than her with a mop of silvery/white hair on his head. Jon.

She pulled out her headphones and stuffed them into her pocket, not bothering to paus the music. She turned to Jocelyn.

"Anything changes and you let me know." Clary began. "Anything at all. And if you want to see me then drop a text and I'll be right there." Jocelyn nodded, holding back tears. After a moment Jocelyn pulled Clary in for a hug.

"You be a good girl, ok? Don't get into too much mischief. And don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I love you so much Clarissa." Jocelyn said, a few tears spilling over her cheeks.

"I love you too Mom. Get better." Clary said. "please."

"I will." Jocelyn said. "I promise."

Clary never made another promise.

* * *

"Everything is… white." Clary looked around her temporary bedroom. She dumped her suitcase in the corner and fell face first on the bed. Her bright green suitcase stood out on the white carpet.

"You're very observant." Jon replied sarcastically. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, silver hair falling over one of his eyes.

The room was large, much larger than the one in the apartment she shared with her mother but far planer. On the left of the room was a queen-sized bed with white sheets, one side lay flush against the wall. On the left of the room was a white desk with a computer on it (One of the few not white objects in the room) and a small lamp. Just to the side of it there was a big bookcase that had no books.

On the far end of the room was a large window with a window seat. It was quite plain but Clary thought that she would enjoy drawing there. She walked over to the window, rolling her eyes at Jon's comment. She moved the white curtains to the side to reveal the view.

It was a view of the back garden. It was as beautiful as the front of the house. The bushes we're trimmed to perfection and brightly colored flowers adorned areas of the garden.

"Do you think Mom will make it?" Jon blurted out. "I mean, do you think that she'll get better?" He had worry clear on his face. Clary took longer than she should've before responding.

"Yeah, this operation will help her." She responded. She didn't need to tell Jon of her hopelessness. That she knew Jocelyn was going to die.

* * *

That evening Clary lay on the bed, staring at the white ceiling. She never did trust the colour white. She knew it was supposed to represent purity and full of goodness, a fresh start. To her it was full of lies, empty promises and deceit. She opened up her suitcase and pulled out a framed photo. It was of her, Jon and Jocelyn. She didn't know exactly how old she was when it was taken but the short curls and chubby red cheeks indicated that she wasn't more than five.

They we're sitting on a blanket at the beach, the sun shining over them. Clary's face was unattractively covered in a mixture of icecream and sand but she beamed at the camera thing that she was the centre of attention. Jon sat beside her, his face in a scowl, he didn't like having his photo taken. Behind them both was their mother. She looked as beautiful as ever. So proud of her children even if they were such a mess.

Valentine had taken the photo, back when they were a family. She had been there an entire evening and he had barely said a few words to her (something about being at home and not making a mess) before he hid away to his study.

It was mid-summer, so Clary didn't need to go to the local school. This was good she though, she'd have plenty of time to sketch and work on her artwork.

After an hour she decided that she missed school. She missed the routine that it bought with it. Routine gave her life meaning, something to do. Ever since what happened with Simon she needed something to work towards and now with what's happening to her Mom…

She shook her head and dug the heels of her palms into her eyes. She grabbed her iPod and placed the headphones in her ears and pressed play to whatever song was on. It took no time for the deep bass and aggressive beats to distract her mind until she was thinking about nothing.

* * *

 **So, what do you think? Good? Bad? Confusing? Please leave a review, it's what motivates me to write more because believe it or not it is quite time consuming. Constructive criticism is welcome just don't be an ass.**

 **-An angry Welshie**


	2. Chapter 2 -A drunken angel

**Hi boios, enjoy :) I tried to get it to you as fast as possible but I have a busy life. sorry**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the mortal instruments or any of it's characters.**

* * *

"So, he'll be away all weekend?" Clary said surprised. She sat with Jon in the living room. He'd just announced that he was throwing a party the next day. They were lounging across the sofa's, Clary listened to music quietly on her iPod while Jon flicked through channels on the tv.

"Yep. He does this a lot." Jon explained that they were "work trips". "I bet he just goes to his personal assistant's house for the weekend."

"He has a personal assistant?" Clary said surprised. Her father was an investor with big companies.

"He has several." He deadpanned. Clary sighed at the idea of a party. It wasn't that she hated people because she didn't. If anything, she enjoyed company (though she would never admit it). She however didn't enjoy the conversation that came with people. The questions. This was usually enough to deter her from parties.

"How many people are coming over?" She asked.

"Not many." He said after a moment. "About thirty, forty people." Clary stared at him.

"You think forty people is not that many?" She gaped. "Not that many is like five."

"Chill your tits." He said with a laugh. "It won't be that bad. You'll have fun."

"So, I'm invited then? You never used to let me hang out with your friends."

"Well…" He said scratching the back of his head. "I don't see you very often."

She really didn't want to go and it wasn't like Jon and her were incredibly close but she did miss hanging out with him.

A sad look was all it took to convince her to agree to go.

* * *

I hate this I hate this I hate this, was all that ran through Clary's head. She was convinced that there was at least forty people in the house and another few dozens in the front and back garden.

At all times all four bathrooms were full of girls retouching their makeup. The two guest rooms were… occupied and Clary had to resort to locking up her bedroom after discovering two horny teenagers making out.

Jon had made her dress up for the occasion as the party was for her "return". She'd decided on a tight black dress that emphasized what little curves she had, beneath that she wore a pushup bra, black lace panties and some black fishnet tights. On her feet she was wearing black platform boots.

Her red curls hung loose around he shoulders, her green eyes adorned with eyeshadow and heavy eyeliner. She wore a bright red lipstick that matched her hair perfectly. The kitchen was full of girls her age, they were all taking shots. She recognized a few of them. "Friends" of Jon from when they were kids. None of them looked like kids anymore.

"Hey Clary!" One of the older girls called. She had light blonde hair and a high pitch nasally voice. She also had most of her chest out. "You want a drink?" She was nice enough, with kind eyes and a friendly smile. Clary cringed.

"No thanks Kate, three weeks sober." She said as politely as she could. She knew if she started drinking then she wouldn't stop. She had used drinking to cope since... Simon.

"Three weeks isn't that much!" called another girl from behind her. Her chest was better protected by a shirt, her ass however, not so much.

"Yeah but-" Clary began to protest.

"C'mon, one shot won't kill you!" Said another girl and soon enough they were all on top of her. Calling at her. Grasping at her arms. They're calls got louder, more despirate as if her having a shot would give them the answer to life.

"Fine." She shouted over the crowd. "ONE shot, then you leave me alone." A string of cheers followed her as she walked to the counter where a line of shots had been arranged. This is a stupid, stupid, stupid idea. Well, what harm was one shot? As it turns out… a lot.

It didn't stop after just one shot. There was another, and another, and another until the endless stream of tequila and bad decisions ensued.

The next two hours passed in a blur. At the time she believed she was behaving very well but later she would learn how the alcohol had affected her. She danced to deafening music, drank liquid that burned like fire and kissed lips of people that sparkled. She also threw up in one of the plant pots.

* * *

Clary decided that it was too hot in the kitchen so with a few stumbles she made her way outside to the front garden

On the front porch she found her brother sitting on a big chair with a pretty girl in his lap. He was surrounded by about half a dozen boys. They must've all been on the football team. The all had muscly shoulder and from what she could see through their tight shirts, toned abs. They must've been drunk too because they seemed to sway, in fact, to Clary everything was swaying.

They were all laughing over something one of them said.

She walked towards them.

"You got a fag?" She asked to Jon who turned his attention from the mouth of the blonde girl in his lap.

"You smoke?" He said in surprise. The laughter had dimmed and only a few whispers came from the boys.

"I have for two years." She replied, she meant to say it seriously but a little giggle escaped past her lips.

"Smoking is bad for you." One of the boys chimed in. Jon gave him a glare.

"Do you have a fag or not?" Clary asked suddenly very impatient. She jumped up and down like a child. Jon was about to say no when he was interrupted.

"I do." One of the boys said. He had dark hair that matched his dark eyes. She gave him a goofy grin as he lit and handed her a roll. He gave her a flirtatious wink as he lighted one for himself.

"Seb…" Jon said in an annoyed tone.

"What?" he replied innocently. "The lady asked for something, I supplied." He gave Clary another wink as she walked away with a giggle.

She walked to the end of her front garden. She was suddenly ravenous. Was there a McDonalds nearby? She couldn't quite remember where it was. Left No, it was right. She wandered mercilessly drunk through the streets in search of her feast.

* * *

Eventually she'd lost track of where she was and realized that she was lost. She'd also come to the end of her cigarette. She dropped it onto the floor and put it out with the toe of her boot.

"You know, smoking is bad for you." A voice came from behind her. The voice startled her so much that she jumped with a little yelp and nearly fell over. The voice turned from words to laughter.

If she was sober, perhaps she would've been cautious around the boy that she found, however she was very much not sober and had to. He looked a little older than her and very handsome. He had messy light hair that she couldn't quite see in the dim light. He was taller than her. He was also wearing a suit.

"Why does everyone keep saying that. It's not like I'm forcing them to smoke." She said with a pout.

"You know." He replied with a smirk. "second hand smoking can actually kill."

"Don't stand so close then." She retorted. He laughed again.

"What's a pretty girl like you, wearing a dress like that, all alone on the streets at night." His eyes raked up and down her body. His gaze made her shiver. "And, are you drunk?" his cocky smirk changed into a frown. Was he upset that she was drunk, and he wasn't? Clary thought that this idea was the most likely.

"What's it to you?" She teased. She had no idea if she was trying to flirt or not. She knew that it wasn't a very good idea to flirt with a stranger, but she decided that she would deal with the consequences later. "And what are you doing all on your lonesome? And why are you wearing a suit?"

"Those are excellent questions. Ones I will not answer because you have priority. You must be freezing." He was right. She had goosebumps all up her arms and legs, she was also shivering.

"You know." She began, already have forgotten what he'd said. "Your voice sounds really funny. Like you're pretending to be from England." She stepped towards him, but her boot caught on a crack in the sidewalk and she tripped. After accepting her fate of faceplanting a pair of arms caught her. She smiled giddily, looking up with adoration at her knight in shining armor.

He tried to help her up, but she stayed limp in his arms, ogling at her angel. He struggled a little to help her up, it wasn't that he lacked the strength but more the lack of cooperation by his sudden companion.

"I am from England." He said in a slightly flustered voice. "Hey are you ok?" She was not, in fact ok, she was very much the opposite of ok, as far from ok as you could get. She spun on her heels, ran to a nearby bush and promptly threw up in it.

The blonde boy's eyes widened. It was clear that he wasn't sure what to do. It was ok, Clary decided. She thought it was nice that he caught her.

"Where do you live? So, I can take you home." He offered. This offer got a giggle from the girl.

"I live in Brooklyn. But I must stay with my dad because my mum needs to have surgery on her brain. I don't know where his house is." Every word was true but the boy said.

"Well you're definitely drunk."

Clary didn't know if she passed out or if she just found the cold floor to be comfy and decided to fall asleep. The last thing she could remember before the night sky blanketed her vision, was the boy. He stood below a street lamp, the light created a halo around his head, like he truly was an angel.

 **I know it's pretty sure but it actually caused me a lot of stress to write just because I hate introductions. I had a rough week (my dog died) but here it is, very short and pretty shit but hey.**

 **Please leave a review, they make me smile and motivate me to write on. Constructive criticism is welcome but don't be an ass**

 **-A tired Welshie**


	3. Chapter 3 -home-bound

**Hi boios, I'm not even going to try to apologize for the late reply 'caus it's not like anyone reads any of my stuff, its more for fun. I do still write just don't post. I'm gonna try and get back to speed with this but I make no promises, life is hard.**

Clary jolted awake, beads of sweat ran down her forehead. Her hair stuck to her neck. A shiver ran down her body, she was in fact half naked. She only wore her underwear and bra from last night. Last night. She couldn't remember a thing.

She glanced around her and quickly realized that she wasn't in her own bed, nor was she at her father's house. This place was completely alien to her. The bed she lay in was large, with grey covers and grey pillows. The room she was in however was quite small. There was a dresser, a mirror and a chair. On that chair, folded neatly where her clothes from the night before.

She pushed the covers that covered the bottom of her legs, pale in the yellow light of the room. Swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood. That's when she noticed the sound of a shower. There were two doors, one must've led to a bathroom. A bathroom that someone was showering in.

Clary rushed to put on her clothes, not wanting to know who was in the shower. Who she had spent the night. Who she had… done things with. She struggled into her boots. Before she left the room she took a look in the mirror. Around her eyes there where black smudges, her lipstick had worn off and she had an unpleasant taste in her mouth. Her hair was a mess, sticking out every which way. She looked far from the girl she was two years ago, but she was still Clary. At least, that's what she told herself.

Clary jolted out her daze as she realized that the water had stopped. She exited the room and entered a long plain corridor, plain apart from the photos that hung along it. There seemed to be the same four people in each photo. She stopped, looking at one photo.

Three teenagers sat around a hospital bed and on that bed sat a younger boy. Comic book in hand and a smile on his face.

"You're leaving?" a voice said from behind her. Clary jumped and turned to see where the voice came from. It was a boy, his shirtless state revealed toned muscles on his stomach. Everything about him was golden. From his still wet blonde hair, shining eyes that showed a hint of disappointment and his tanned skin that stretched over his torso.

"I have to get home soon." Clary muttered before waling the opposite way down the corridor. IT took her a few turns to find the front door of the house she was in, but the boy didn't follow her. When she left she had no idea where she was or what time it was but the sun hunch low in the sky. She looked around to get her bearings.

She was about to go left when a line from a movie stopped her. "Don't go that way, never go that way!" said the unhelpful worm from Labyrinth. But as it turned out, that's the way the girl needed to go to reach her goal. Clary however didn't really want to go back "home", so she went right. Wandering along endless winding streets, unashamed by the fact she still wore the clothes from last night.

* * *

"Where the fuck have you been?" Jon demanded as soon as Clary walked through the door. "It's nearly four o'clock! I damn near sent out a search party!"

"I was out." She said casually as she walked up the stairs. A few laughs came from the sofa, Clary was so tired that she barely noticed any of Jon's football friends. She went straight into the shower. She took off her boots but didn't bother taking off her dress.

She blasted the cold water. As it washed over her body she imagined it washing away the hand prints of the boy and what they must've done together. It's not like Clary was a virgin or anything, or that having sex was a big deal. She'd never had sex with a total stranger before. Never had a one-night stand. Never been drunk, well too drunk to not remember.

To be fair to drunk me, Clary thought. He wasn't bad on the eyes.

* * *

Clary had spent most of the evening sat at her bedroom window. Her forehead against the glass, headphones on. The music stayed on the quietest setting, but it was enough. Enough to take her awake from that window seat. Away from that world.

She only moved when her stomach hurt with hunger. She hadn't eaten for two days. She had become so used to the emptiness that she didn't realize.

All she wore as she went downstairs was a pair of pajama shorts and a baggy hoodie. She pulled up the hood above her head as she stepped into the kitchen.

One of Jon's friends wolf whistled from the living room. He got rewarded with a punch on the arm. Clary ignored the commotion and continued to the fridge, it was a sad looking fridge. The shelves were barren apart from out of date pepperoni, a bottle of beer, some protein shakes, a jar of pickles and an apple that was home to an empire of mold.

"We have no food." Clary called to Jon.

"We never do." Jon replied. Clary wandered into the living room and leaned by the wall. Jon had two friends with him. One had dark hair that matched his dark eyes. The other's face was so generic that she wouldn't be able to pick him out of a crowd.

"What do you eat then?" Clary asked. Jon looked at her as if she'd killed somebody.

"Takeout." Clary sighed. She went back to the fridge and grabbed the beer.

"Tomorrow we're going grocery shopping." She went back up into the room, sat at her window seat and watched the stars dance across the sky.

* * *

 **Pretty bad I know but I'm really tired. As usual, please leave a review. Constructive criticism is welcome but don't be an ass.**

 **-An Angry Welshie**


	4. Chapter 4 -Mac'n'cheese

**Hey Boios. I've got so much work to do but I'm doing this instead so… your welcome?**

 **Special thanks to britt2584 for no other reason than being a legend.**

* * *

Clary dropped the bag of groceries on the counter and Jon dropped his. They unpacked in silence. It was weird, Clary thought. Doing normal things like this with Jon. She'd only been staying with him for a week, but things had gone "normal" almost instantly. As if it had always been like this.

"What ya making?" He asked, unpacking the bags. Clary stood on tiptoes to open the top cabinet and grabbed two glasses. She poured coke into them and gave Jon the one with less in it.

"Mac'n'cheese." She replied taking a sip from her drink. "I make it the same way that mom does." The room was silent. When was the last time Jon had Mac'n'cheese? It must have been at least six years ago.

Neither of them spoke as they finished unpacking.

"I'm gonna have some of the football boys down in about an hour. You reckon you can make enough for us all?" Jon asks as Clary puts a large pot of water on to boil. She nodded simply, continuing her preparation.

* * *

" _STOP! That's not how you do it darling." Jocelyn pulled the cheese from her daughters' hand. Twelve-year-old Clary Fray had wanted to supprise her mother by making Mac'n'cheese, like she always made her. "You don't just throw cheese into a pan to make cheese sauce. Let me show you." Her voice was full of affection._

" _First is the butter." Jocelyn's delicate hands handed her child what she needed. "Wait until it melts." Clary did as she was told. "Good, now add the flour." Again, Clary did as she was told. She got handed a whisk, she mixed together the ingredients. Jocelyn added a splash of milk into the pan._

" _Quick! Mix, mix, mix! Mix like your life depended on it." She'd said. So, she did. She mixed so hard that the handle of the whisk left her hand red._

* * *

The music blasted through the downstairs of the house, chattering came from the living room. Jon had at least a dozen boys with him, they all laughed over jokes and beers. Clary stayed in the kitchen. She couldn't cook many things but the little she did know, she knew well.

The endless chatter from the living room kept her grounded as she floated about the kitchen. She was tidying the mess she had made (she left the dishes for Jon) and pulling out the mac'n'cheese from the oven. As instructed by Jon she mad enough to feed an army.

"Food!" She called, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

"Bring it in!" Jon called back.

"I can't." She replied walking into the room. "There's too much. Grab a bowel and as much as you want." There was a chorus of cheers as the boys ran to the kitchen.

Only two thanked her for it.

* * *

Clary had no idea how she got roped into it but there she was. Sitting in a circle with Jon's friends with a bottle in the middle. Jon was currently sucking some random girl's face off. She was pretty. Prettier than Clary would've liked to admit.

"Woah!" She heard someone shout. "Come on Clary! Pucker up!" She looked up surprised. It was a boy with shaggy black hair that swept over his forehead to cover his eyes. He looked familiar, yet she couldn't quite place him. Perhaps they'd met the night of the party.

She had barely any time to register what was happening when he leaned across the circle and kissed her. It was only a little kiss, but Clary felt fuzzy afterwards. As soon as he pulled back she coulodn't help but wanting more. Any time before what had happened Clary would've been disgusted in herself. Wanting to kiss a stranger, for god sake she fucked a stranger drunk and couldn't even remember it.

Clary, like before, said nothing during the game, only laughing along to the others, but every now and then, from the corner of her eye she saw him. The boy with the shaggy black hair. Staring at her, as if she was the light of the room.

* * *

She sat at her window, her head rest against the wall, eyes closed. Half of a cigarette, long gone out, between her fingers. A song she didn't know the name of played through her headphones. She didn't know how long she was like that but it was dark when he entered.

Sebastian. That was his name, she heard the others call him by it.

"This isn't the bathroom…" He said, looking around her room. He noticed the cigarette. "Need a light?" He shut the door and made his way over, pulling a bright yellow lighter from his pocket. She couldn't help but notice the picture of a naked women on it.

She pulled out her head phones and leaned into the flame he provided. The sat in silence as he pulled a roll from his own pocket.

"Most of them have left." He said flicking ash out of the window.

"What are you doing here then?" She enquired. She'd already finished her fag.

"I needed the toilet." He said as if it were the simplest thing in the world. "You know, you looked sexy as hell the other night..."

She ignored him and said "Second door to the left." He gave her a thank you, a wink and was off.

* * *

"You're getting married?!" Jon slammed his fist on the table, hard enough that a glass fell on the floor, shattering into pieces. The news came as a bit of a shock to Clary as well but she didn't think that it was breaking things worthy.

"This is bullshit!" He shouted, continuing his tirade.

"Oh, calm down. I don't see what the problem is." Valentine said, awkwardly adjusting his suit jacket.

"I mean." Jon sighed, frustrated and ran his hands through his hair. "Is it someone we know? Have we ever met her?" Valentine shook his head. "Of course, we haven't. Does she know about any of the other women in your life?" He spat.

"I have organized for you both to meet her tomorrow night." Valentine said. This caught Clary's attention.

"Wait what? I don't want to meet anyone." Clary barely liked talking to the people she knew let alone some snobby woman she'd never met before.

"Thank you, Clary. See, neither one of us want to be involved." Valentines calm demeanor had been slowly deteriorating and It finally snapped.

"Weather you like it or not you are my children and she will be part of the family and while you live under my roof you will do as I say. I don't care if you hate her she is to be your mother." Apart from when he would fight with Jocelyn Clary had never seen him raise his voice.

"We already have a mother." Jon growled.

"Not for long... by the looks of it." Clary felt her heart stop. She knew that he was a horrid man but how could he stoop so low? She hadn't said much the entire meal and she didn't plan on saying any more. She simply stood along with her plate, still half full with food and threw it at the wall behind Valentines head.

She managed to reach her room before the tears came.

* * *

 **That's it for today boios. Sorry I know it's pretty shit but life ain't going so great and I needed to finish this. Hope you enjoyed. Please leave a review, they make me smile.**

 **-An ok Welshie**


	5. Chapter 5 -Hooked

' **Sup peeps (Hi boios). I have loads of work to do but I've decided that I need an evening of de-stress so I'm writing this instead, even though this is kinda stressful too ngl.**

 **I don't own the song in this chapter (I don't own any songs), It's disaster hearts by I fight dragon**

* * *

She drew the curtains, it was still dark out, she preferred it that way. When no one was around to bother her. She still had an hour until the first light of the sun appeared.

 _Come back rebound, simpler said than found_

She finished tying her laces before going through the front door. She took a deep breath and began to run.

She didn't jog.

 _night by night and tear by tear._

She ran.

 _Somehow some way we all get to someday_

She ran as if she was running from something.

 _mile by mile and fear by fear._

And she was.

Shew was running from her family

Running from the people who thought they knew her.

 _Disaster has a way of remaking our hearts_ _  
_ _long after all the thunder and scars._

Her problems.

 _Days pass and bit by bit we begin to restart_

The memories.

 _our disaster hearts._

Her disaster. What was her disaster? Was it Simon? Her mother? Herself?

Either way, she was changed. For better or for worse, she guessed it was for worse. But for once she didn't care. She'd always hated sports, exercise and even going outside yet here she was. She didn't stop running, her calves burned, and her lungs were close to collapse, but she didn't care. She was free. No one was telling her which way to go or what to do. She didn't have to look after anyone.

Whenever her body begged to slow she would speed up. She needed to be strong. After twenty minutes she turned around back to the house. She fainted thirty feet from the front door.

* * *

"We should move her?"

"Wouldn't that freak her out?"

"Well she can't stay on the sidewalk!"

Clary didn't want to open her eyes, she didn't want to move, the cold damp floor had never seemed so comfortable. Except… Why did it hurt to breathe? Her eyes fluttered open. The sun sat high in the sky, the light momentarily blinding her.

She saw them both, similar yet different. One a head of white the other black.

"Hey Jon... Seb." Clary mumbled. The i-pod was still playing, what song she had no idea. She tried to push herself up but her arms hurt too much to function.

"Hey Legs." Sebastian said with a grin. _Legs?_ Clary looked down to see that the short she was wearing had ridden up, exposing a concerning amount of leg.

She squirmed uncomfortable under his gaze, any other time however, she would've bathed in the attention, maybe not with her brother sitting right next to her brother though. She stood slowly and began walking towards the house. It only took two minutes with Jon and Seb following and bombarding her with questions.

She went straight into the shower, ignoring her brother, he left after knocking on the door a few times.

She didn't wash herself, or untangle her messy mane of red, she only stood under the scolding water. She barely noticed her skin turning red. Her mind began to race. She thought of everything and nothing.

Simon. Her mother. Jon. Sebastian. School. Music. Racism. Sexism. Discrimination. Everything bad in the world. Him. The boy she knew nothing about, but she was sure he knew plenty about her.

* * *

She didn't know exactly how she got into this position, but she wasn't necessarily complaining. Her back lay flush against the wall, her front pressed against Sebastian Verlacs' chest. His mouth was vicious on hers. He didn't kiss her carefully like she would've expected of him. Instead he kissed her full of desperation, His teeth grazing her lips, sucking on her lip, biting her neck, her shoulder.

His hands touched wherever she let him, and she never stopped him. Now his hands found their home under her bra, pulling, squeezing and groping the small mounds. She couldn't say that she enjoyed it but it was an escape, she didn't have to think about anything else.

She didn't return his... enthusiasm but he didn't seem to care. His hands began exploring downwards, he thumbed the waistband of her jeans. She said nothing. He began toying with her panties, rubbing her through the fabric. She said nothing.

Slowly, as if he didn't want her to notice, he slid his finger around the fabric of her panties and pressed his finger where he thought that her clit was. He was very far off. Clary made a little sound that could pass off as a moan of pleasure, not because she wanted to but because she felt kind of bad for him and she imagined that I wasn't something he heard very often.

Clary began to kiss him more enthusiastically hoping that it would distract him incase she gave herself away.

With ought warning he thrust two fingers inside of her. The sound she made wasn't of pleasure but of surprise. He began pumping in and out, faster and harder. She began to feel a little something, something pleasurable. A weight in her stomach that made her whole-body tingle. When it started to get good, he stopped.

"Treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen." He said with a grin, giving her one final kiss before leaving her room. And just like that, she was hooked.

* * *

 **Sorry, sorry I know it isn't that long but hey it's better than nothing. I really need to work on writing more. Anyways, Sebastian?! Ew am I right…. Yikes anyway, how's it going? What do you think should happen between them? I'm ope to ideas, so please leave a review they make this worth it.**

 **-An angry Welshie**


	6. Chapter 6 -Hospitals suck

**Hey boios, how's it going. I'm just gonna get on with it.**

* * *

The smoke was everywhere. It filled the air of her bedroom but also it replaced the air of her lungs, it stung her eyes. It was all she could feel, taste and smell. All that she could hear was the slight giggling of her new favorite companion.

"Told you my pot guy was good, didn't I?" He bragged, releasing a big breath of smoke. All Clary could do was nod. Although she was far from innocent, this was her first encounter with weed and she didn't know if she liked it or not.

There was a shuffling beside her. Sebastian was suddenly on top of her, kissing her. Her lips, her neck, her ear. Clary froze, the weight of his body suffocating her and pushing her into the bed.

"Hey Clary, I was thinki-WHAT THE FUCK?!" Jon stood in the doorway, hand over his mouth and nose. Sebastian gave a lazy look towards his direction before standing off of the bed, half of an erection clearly visible.

"Want some?" He asked, holding out the blunt. Jon snatched it off him before discarding it on a nearby ash tray. Clary had decided that ash trays were her new favorite ornaments, adorning her room with them.

"Get. Out." He said tersely. Ever since their… relationship(?) started, Jon had been very short with Sebastian.

The seconds it took for Sebastian to collect his things, kiss Clary goodbye and leave ticked by agonizingly slow. Clary expected Jon to shout but he didn't.

"So, you're doing drugs now?" He sounded like a disappointed parent. And, to be fair, Clary was a disappointing child.

"What's it to you?" She retorted, having not moved. Jon opened the window but it made little difference to the hotboxed room.

"I just-" He sighed. "I thought we could go and visit Mom today… Will you come with me?" Clary sat up. She'd been staying with her father for a few weeks now and she'd meant to visit her mother but had been too busy wallowing in self-pity. She suddenly felt extremely guilty.

She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry and she nodded.

* * *

"Why don't you just learn to drive? I could teach you if you want." Jon said, stopping at a red light.

"Thanks but I never need to go anywhere and besides, I don't mind walking." Her and Jon had never been particularly close, if anything they would fight all of the time. Hair pulling, name calling, all of it. Their mother's illness undoubtedly bought them closer. She didn't mind talking to him now, although things were a little awkward whenever she was with Sebastian.

"Did you go with Mom, for her visits?" He glanced over, entering the car park.

"Yeah, I went to all of them. I hated it though. Going to the appointments was like admitting that there was something wrong with her when it was just easier to pretend that everything was fine…" She trailed off. She'd always hated hospitals, not only being there but the smell afterwards. That hospital smell that stuck to your clothing and reminded you of death being covered up by bleach.

It took them a long time to find the relevant reception.

"Hi, we're here to see out mom. Jocelyn Fray." Clary told the miserable looking lady behind the counter.

With an eye roll the women made a few clicks of her mouse.

"I'm sorry but Miss Fray isn't seeing anyone today." And with that she carried on with her work.

"But we're her kids." Jon said a little flustered.

"I am very sorry, but Miss Fray still isn't seeing anyone today."

"Well… Can we at least know how she's doing?" Clary piped in.

"I'll try and find someone to talk with you." The women said with a sigh.

They said their thanks and sat down in nearby chairs. Clary put in her headphones and let the music drift her away. Jon however couldn't distract himself, his hands clasped tightly together in his lap.

They waited for what for over two hours until someone came to see them. A short man with a scruffy beard that looked like he hadn't slept in days.

"Hello, you must be the Clarrisa and Jonathan Fray. My name is Dr Lawson" He said in a deep voice.

"Jonathan Morgenstern actually. How is she? We weren't allowed to see her." Jon began.

"Your mother's surgery went well, however she isn't handling the recovery very well so she will need to stay for a while." Clary stood from her chair.

"How long is a while?"

"A few weeks, maybe two or three…"

Clary closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. It didn't take them long to decide that they wouldn't learn anything else and left.

* * *

"I just don't understand why we couldn't see her." Jon said angrily, pulling into their driveway.

"Maybe she didn't want to see us. Like remember how she would hide in her room after arguments with dad… because she didn't want to seem weak." Jon nodded as they both left the car. Clary pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. It was Sebastian's, the one with the naked woman on it.

She lit it and took a long drag. "You ready to meet our future mama in law tonight?" She asked him, pocketing the lighter.

"Am I ever?' He sighed. "I just don't understand that man. A normal person would introduce their girlfriend to their kid's before they put a ring on it."

'Yeah well… He's far from normal, isn't he?"

* * *

"Hey are you hungry? Because Isabelle is making breakfast."

"You know… I was but my appetite has suddenly returned!"

"It's a miracle! Magnus and I are ordering pizza later, you want to join?"

"Yeah sure, we haven't hung out in a while."

"Hey, it's not our fault. You're the one that's been wallowing in self pity over some ginger that you met one time. That sex must've been amazing."

"I told you, we didn't have sex. She was too drunk to even stand let alone fuck."

"Good job you don't need to stand to have sex…"

"Ugh, you're impossible."

"I still can't believe she just up and left."

"Yeah, me neither. Am I really that repulsive?"

"Yep, your face is disgusting, just looking at you now makes me want to throw up."

"Gee, thanks bro…"

"No problem Jace. I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah, see you later."

* * *

 **There we have it folks. Another chapter that took me way to long to write, I watched the entire duration of the Titanic while writing this. For some reason my computer thinks that 'Clary' should be 'Clay' but whatever. Please leave a review, they make me smile, feel free to ask questions or leave constructive criticism. Just don't be an ass.**

 **-An Angry Welshie**


	7. Chapter 7 -Th same ol' story

**Hey boios. I've had this idea for a while but it wasn't enough for a one-shot so I added it to this story. I'm a little stuck and this doesn't add much to the future plot, but I think it's cool to see Jocelyn's experience.**

* * *

"I can't believe that you bought it without talking to me about it first!" Jocelyn said.

"Well I didn't talk to you because I knew you'd say no." Valentine retorted finishing the last fw drops of his whiskey.

"Damn right I would've said no! You can't just buy a new car! Especially without consulting me!" She tried to reason with him, but he was having none of it.

"I'm a grown man and I'm going to spend the money that _I_ worked hard for! At least I work for my money while you sit around and paint. Besides you aren't my mother, you are my wife and should start acting like it."

"Maybe I wouldn't act like a mom to you if you didn't act like such a child all of the time!" She knew the slap was coming the second she said it. It didn't change the fact that it hurt.

He turned his back on her and she could see the tension in his muscles. This is how their 'chats' ended every time: Jocelyn voicing her thoughts, Valentine swinging his hand, and the stubbornness closing around her like a curtain.

He reached for his coat, a sure sign that the conversation was over. Jocelyn felt like he won every argument by grabbing his coat. He held the car keys between his teeth while rummaging through his pockets, making sure he had enough for a round.

"You aren't going to drink and drive, are you?" She didn't mean to sound so peevish. He didn't look back at her.

She stood there, blankly staring until she heard a little sob behind her. That's when she saw him. His innocent little face.

"Why did he hurt you?" He cried. She ran over, and lifted him into her arms, letting him cry into her shoulder. All she could do was stroke his hair and whisper soothing words.

* * *

"MOOMMYYYYYY!" Clary shrieked. Tears and snot streamed her face as she cradled her scuffed leg.

"What happened baby?" Jocelyn asked, checking the child's knee.

"I-I fell o-over…" Clary managed between sobs. Mother took daughter into her arms and gently kissed her knee.

"See, all better. Besides, you can't be sad. You have your first swimming lesson!" She was good at this, distracting her children from all of the bad. "C'mon my little fish."

* * *

"Did you have fun baby girl?"

"Yes! The lady said that I could swim as good as a dolphin!" The young girl boasted.

"Does that mean you don't need lessons then?"

"I still need lessons if I'm going to be an Olpymian." She stumbled over her words. "Can I stay over uncle Luke's tonight please?" Jocelyn stuttered. She took the kids to stay at Luke's whenever her and Valentine had a big fight. She didn't want them to know that though.

"If he says yes."

* * *

Having left her daughter at her closest friends house, Jocelyn drove home, thinking all the way. Thinking about the life she had built for life with her amazing children and… him. She knew that he wasn't a bad guy. Perhaps maybe life had gotten too dull. Too routine.

They should do something exiting, impact-full. She thought. Maybe now would be the perfect time to have a third child! It was time she forgot about painting and focus on her family. She thought…

The idea began to excite her. Frothing to the face like bubbles in a lemonade bottle. She would tell Valentine as soon as she got home.

He would've jut picked Jon up from soccer and she worried that they may be home late. She counted the hours, her decision singing in her head.

Valentines car wasn't at the house when she got back. The darkness of the windows was a stranger to her in the half dusk. She turned the key slowly in the lock, dreading entering her own home.

The kitchen looked the same as when she left, clean and unwelcome, the dishes from breakfast having long dried by the sink. By the time she found the letter, the emptiness of the house had enveloped her like a cloak.

Her tongue stuck to the bottom of her mouth, dry as an old leaf.

The room felt as cold as if the walls had been made of ice, but the cold didn't reach her. The words danced along the cheap paper; different words to the same old story, blue inc threatening her when she was so used to crayon.

She stood like a statue facing the window, her eyes combing the darkness for familiar headlights, hr breath clouding the glass. The quiet was heavy with expectancy.

* * *

 **I know it's short, but I really liked this chapter, I put a lot of work into making it well written and I hope you liked it too. Please leave a review, they make my day.**

 **-An Angry Welshie**


	8. Chapter 8 -A W K W A R D

**Hey boios, it's meeeeee. I'm sorry for disappearing of the face of the earth. I didn't have a computer for the longest of time and I couldn't update on my phone. I'll try to update a few chapters in the next few weeks to make up for it. I haven't gotten the hang of this new keye bord so excuse any typos pleas…**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own the mortal instruments (obviously)**

* * *

Clary always felt sorry for only children, having a sibling meant that you didn't have to go through alone. And anyone with siblings, at some point, has communicated with them through some sort of telepathy. A knowing look, a kick under the table, or simply just knowing what the other is thinking.

Clary and Jon often used "telepathy" when they were in an awkward situation and to say it was an awkward dinner would be the understatement of the century.

 _They're doing it again._ Jon's face told her. Clary cocked her eyebrows in response trying to ignore the love eyes valentine gave is fiancée.

"So, what did you say your name was?" Jon had lost the game of rock, paper, scissors, meaning that he had to do all the talking.

"Lilith, dear boy." Her voice was light with a hint of arrogance. She had straight hair that hung limp from her head, cut abruptly at her shoulders. It was so black that it absorbed every ray of light, like a black hole.

Her face at that sort of agelessness to it. For all Clary knew she could've been her age or fifty. She wasn't ugly by any stretch of the imagination, but she wasn't particularly pretty either.

"How did you two meet?" He continued his questions.

The two adults glanced at each other, a secret glistening in their eyes. "It was a work thing." Lilith said smoothly. "Your father was a perfect gentleman." At this Clary snorted, earning a glare from her father.

Lilith coughed. "I'm sorry to hear about your mother. I can't imagine what you're going through.

"Of course you can't." Jon replied abruptly. There was an awkward silence.

Clary gave her brother a kick under the table. _Don't make it worse._

"Who's up for dessert?"

* * *

"Well that could've gone worse." Jon offered, lighting his cigarette.

"It could've gone a lot better too… "She said taking the lighter from her brother, who was suddenly fine with her smoking.

"It's not like you said much to help." He retaliated. She raised an eyebrow.

She took a puff and watching the smoke dance to the stars. She wondered if she would end up there some day, in the stars or in some fiery pit millions of miles down.

The cool air kissed her bare arms, leaving Goosebumps as a sweet parting gift.

Clary had always thought that the lavish garden was pointless and unnecessary but, in the moonlight, there was almost something magical about it.

She flicked ash off her fag before asking. "Do you like her?"

Jon sighed. "I don't _not_ like her… I just feel bad. Like I'm…"

"Betraying Mom?" Clary finished for him. "Yeah. You just have to remember that they've been apart for a long time and I know we always wanted to _Parent Trap_ them but… Let's be real. They hate each other and would be miserable."

"Still nice to think about though." They threw their cigarette butts into the firepit. "Come on. I don't wanna get in trouble if you get frostbite. She didn't even notice that she'd been shivering.

She gave a small smile before walking inside. It was the first time she'd smiled in a long time, she felt guilty all of a sudden. How could she smile, feel happiness when her mother was dying?

* * *

Jon pushed his way through the dancing bodies, careful not too spill his drink.

The scene was all too familiar. As usual he took advantage of his fathers' absence by throwing a party. He didn't know why he did it anymore. Every party had the same songs, drinks and people.

That's when he saw her. He stared. _She was beautiful, long hair nearly the precise colour of black ink, charcoal eyes._

She stood above the girls around her. She wore tall heels, not that she needed them.

Her white dress clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination.

 _Around her neck hung a thick silver chain, on which hung a dark pendant the size of a baby's fist._

Just the sight of her sent blood rushing to… certain areas. He walked towards her. The hunt has begun.

He stalked over to her. He'd never seen her before, and the mystery intrigued him. Intoxicated him.

"Hey, enjoying the party?" Up close he could see that she wasn't so perfect. _He could see the mascara smudged under her eyes, the sweat sticking her hair to her neck._

"It's a bit louder than I like it." She replied smoothly. Jon usually didn't go for taller girls but there was just something about her.

She laughed "Damn, two entire sentences. I'm impressed." She rolled her eyes and began to walk away.

"Aw calm down baby, it was just a joke." He grabbed at her arm, pulling her closer, resting his hand on her behind, giving a little squeeze. She looked into his face for the first time before slapping him and promptly walking way.

* * *

 **Y'all know she a badass. If anyone can guess why I kept using italics for the party scene then… well done. Please leave a review, it really makes me smile and motivates me to write more. I'll try to write the next chapter as soon as possible. Anyway, night guys**

 **-An Angry Welshie**


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